


The Facility

by TianShan



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: ABDL, Diapers, Humiliation, Infantilism, M/M, Shaving, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-31
Updated: 2015-03-31
Packaged: 2018-03-20 13:28:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3652068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TianShan/pseuds/TianShan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur, a guerrilla writer against the government, gets captured and sent to the facility for 'rehabilitation.' Human AU. Loosely based off of the rejuve universe. Can be continued if there is interest, but this is a weird egg. Spankos need only apply. The non-con is more to the situation at hand, as opposed to actual rape.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Facility

A/N: The non-con here is basically the entire situation. The sexual part is actually one of the more consensual aspects of the story. This is vaguely based off of the rejuve universe concept, except for here Arthur has the body of an adult and not a child.

Right now this is a standalone, but if there is interest I can expand on it. (Namely, let me know if you want more of it… this story is a bit of a strange bird.)

# # #  
  
Arthur woke up in the facility entirely naked, but for thick bands around his wrists and ankles. There were no chains, simply smooth titanium bands. He experimentally clacked them together, but nothing happened.

The room was white and sterile, with cabinets and a sink along one wall; he had been laid out on a paper-covered table. It looked like a doctor's office. Arthur had of course heard infamous stories about these facilities meant for political prisoners; few had been inside, and even fewer had mentioned what happened there.

He was scared. There was no denying it. It was hard not to be scared, waking up nude in a sterile doctor's office and knowing you were in for it, whatever 'it' was. He tried the door. It was locked, of course.

He was left to sit and shift for the next five minutes or so… he had gotten up and looked into the cabinets, finding nothing but cotton balls and other such normal medicinal instruments, when the door opened.

A man in a white coat stepped in and closed the door. He looked as though he might be younger than Arthur; blond hair with a cowlick, blue eyes, a little smile on his face.

"You must be Arthur Kirkland, the author?" the man asked. American accent.

Arthur was not used to the art of interacting with strangers while entirely nude, so he cleared his throat and tried to keep a handle on his dignity.

"Yes," Arthur answered. He had been famous for his underground writings about the barbaric oppression of the government, of course. He had simply been so unlucky as to finally get caught. He crossed his arms.

"I'm Alfred," the white-coated man offered with a nod. "I'm sad to inform you that you have been very naughty."

This made Arthur's brows furrow. "What?" he asked, thrown off by that.

"Do you know what happens to naughty boys?" Alfred asked, still looking entirely serious despite the ridiculousness coming out of his mouth.

"The hell?" Arthur asked after a moment, naked awkwardness be damned.

Alfred's lip ticked. "Don't swear," he advised, stepping forward. Arthur involuntarily took a step back. "Naughty boys get spanked on their bare behinds until they cry."

Another long pause. "You have _got_ to be kidding me," Arthur managed. "No way in fucking--"

Arthur heard a faint beep from the man's coat… and suddenly the strength drained from Arthur's body and he had to sit on the floor, his legs ungainly flopping open as he gasped in surprise.

Alfred hummed, and held up a small remote in his hand. Apparently there was some sort of connection between it and the bands on Arthur's wrists and ankles. "It's hardly a joke," Alfred said, replacing the remote in his coat. "You've been sent here for subversive acts, and at minimum are going to get two long, hard spankings a day. More if you're badly-behaved, which it seems you might be." He smiled.

Arthur stared dumbly back from the floor, unable to move.

"Now, say it. 'Naughty boys get spanked on their bare behinds until they cry,'" Alfred cooed at him, reaching forward to pat Arthur's cheek.

Arthur jerked away and said nothing, still stunned.

Alfred chuckled, and then reached forward, picking Arthur up with a surprising amount of strength. "I figured you wouldn't," Alfred said, and went to the door, opening it.

The door lead to a hallway, which Alfred gamely carried Arthur down, Arthur saying nothing since he couldn't think of anything to say; moving not at all since he couldn't. There was a stool in the middle of the hall. Alfred sat down on it, and promptly flipped Arthur's body over on his lap.

"We'll work on what you will and won't say, though," he assured the other, a hand resting on Arthur's behind, rubbing his cheeks together with a brazenness that made Arthur's face color.

"What is the--" Arthur's voice was cut off by Alfred's hand coming down in a sharp _slap_ on his ass. "Ah!"

The slaps came down hard and fast, causing Arthur's face to heat and his breath to quicken. Despite being weakened, somehow he was able to shift slightly and flutter his legs when the burn became too much to stay still for - however, it was just a spanking, after all, just a hand against his ass. He could handle it. He wasn't going to _cry_ , for the love of God.

After some time spent grunting and squirming under the American's relentless hand, he could hear another voice. "Ah, a new one?" a French accent asked, which caused Arthur's cheeks to heat up further at being _watched_.

"Yep," Alfred said, pausing in his spanks to give Arthur's peppered behind a good rub, making Arthur moan. "He's a new one."

"He'll be adorable," the French voice went on, making Arthur want to punch him, if he could move. "However, just your hand, Alfred? Surely you could use a bit extra with a newcomer."

Alfred chuckled, and his hand lifted from Arthur's ass to give another harsh _slap_ , making Arthur yip involuntarily; he was definitely getting sore. "Is that your way of asking for a turn?"

"I certainly have better equipment on hand than my _hand_ ," the French accent sniffed, making Arthur moan in his mind. His ass was _already_ sore.

Alfred laughed. "Go ahead. Do you want to sit?"

"Not at all," the French accent said, and Arthur felt an arm being wound around his middle as he was lifted out of Alfred's lap and into a bent standing position, completely helpless. "Ah, new one, if only you could see how lovely and pink your rear end is. It's about to become very red, though, just like naughty boys deserve."

Arthur said nothing at first, but cried out when the rude _crack_ of a paddle hit his sitspots. It didn't take very long until his eyes were running as the French-accented man relentlessly spanked him over and over again; he heard some faint giggles from passerby as his legs started to shift and march and then finally kick up and his mouth opened in a quiet sob, overwhelmed by the steady _crack crack crack_ against his ass and the embarrassment.

Then the torment stopped, and Arthur felt his head being tipped up as he looked blearily into Alfred's face.

"Tell me," Alfred said quietly. "What happens to naughty boys?" he asked, voice soft and entirely patronizing.

Arthur shook his head, tears running down his face, feet dancing.

"More," Alfred said, and the paddle returned, stinging his ass, his thighs, his inner thighs; he felt a hand between his legs as Alfred grabbed his balls, helpfully holding them out of the way as the Frenchman tanned Arthur's inner thighs while Arthur danced, now sobbing openly as his backside was on fire.

"Naughty boys," Arthur finally gasped, unable to take anymore, "get spanked!"

The paddle stilled, and Arthur could hear Alfred's voice through the haze. "And where do they get spanked, Arthur?"

"On their bare behinds," Arthur sobbed, just wanting it to _stop_.

"Until?" the Frenchman asked, sounding amused.

"Until they cry!" Arthur offered up, _not_ wanting that paddle to strike him again.

"One more time," Alfred cooed, petting Arthur's hair back.

"Naughty boys get spanked on their bare behinds until they cry," Arthur whimpered, tears running down his face as evidence. "No more."

Both the Frenchman and Alfred laughed. "Thank Francis for spanking your bottom as you need," Alfred ordered. "He's a busy man."

"Thank you," Arthur snuffled, and cried _out_ as the paddle cracked against him again.

"More sincere," Alfred demanded. "Ten more, Francis."

As the paddle cracked, unforgiving, against him ten more times, Arthur lost control of his voice and simply sobbed as he kicked; Francis released him onto his feet and he danced around mindlessly, grabbing his ass and feeling his cock flop around openly as the two men watched. Apparently he was allowed the ability to walk and move if he were being humiliated by it.

He continued on in such a manner until he felt fingers pinch against his cockhead; Alfred, stilling him, holding his cock firmly, authoritatively. He raised an eyebrow at Arthur.

"Thank you for s-spanking my bottom as I n-need, Francis," Arthur repeated desperately, gasping, sobbing, trying to rub the fire out of his ass to no avail. There was another strange feeling, a rush of fluid; it was piss, dripping from Arthur's held cock onto the tile below.

Humiliation made Arthur's head swim, and he could hear Francis tisking. "I accept your affectations, _mon cher_ , and assume this won't be the last time we meet. Though, Alfred, I assume you will care for his accident, hm?"

"Yes, of course," Alfred said, and Arthur could hear him standing from the stool while Francis walked away. A moment later, a cool hand rested against the side of Arthur's face, an island against the hot skin. "Are you going to be a good boy, now?" Alfred asked, voice pillow-soft.

Arthur was trying to grab onto the threads of his dignity, and failed, his hands pressed against his screaming backside, trying to ignore the small puddle of urine on the ground. Still sobbing quietly, he nodded, _not_ wanting another session of that.

…and didn't Alfred say he was going to be spanked _twice_ a day? Arthur's breath caught in his throat, panicked; another dribble of urine leaked out to slide down his thighs and he wanted to expire on the spot.

"Come on," Alfred said gently, putting a hand to Arthur's shoulder and encouraging him to walk. "Don't worry about wetting yourself. It's a side-effect from the bands and we'll take care of it. Completely natural." His voice was soft and fond, and Arthur merely sobbed in response, walking slowly, painfully with the guiding.

The hallways were sterile, and, to Arthur's mortification, there were others in lab coats walking around. They would greet Alfred and give Arthur what he presumed to be sympathetic smiles; a couple of them actually reached out and patted his punished ass, which made Arthur hiss.

After a few moments of walking, Alfred, blessedly, lead him into another room and closed the door. It was another doctor's-office-looking room; this one had stirrups on the table, though, and what looked like a length of rope hanging from the ceiling. Arthur felt his insides go cold with fear and he looked over at Alfred.

Alfred was still smiling. "You won't be hurt here," Alfred assured him. "Well, other than your naughty bottom being spanked," he amended, and Arthur winced at the tone. "Get up on the table and put your heels in the stirrups."

Arthur still hesitated, until he felt Alfred's hand _slap_ against his ass in warning, which made him scramble up on the table and obey. Once his feet were in the stirrups, legs bent, ass hanging over the edge of the table, Arthur felt the bands around his ankles take effect and pin his legs in that position 

Alfred hummed and took one of Arthur's hands, lifting it above Arthur's head and pinning it back.

"N-no," Arthur begged when Alfred reached for the other one, in pain and off-kilter and frightened at being spread and pinned back so. "N-no, no, please…" Another dribble of urine escaped him and dripped onto the floor.

Alfred tutted at him. "Now, I know you must be frightened, but you need to trust me, Arthur. I can't have you peeing all over the facility. Now, be a good boy or I will spank you again."

Terrified, Arthur relinquished his other hand (having no choice anyhow), and started to hyperventilate.

"No, no," Alfred told him, voice surprisingly kind. "It'll be all right. I promise. We'll fix you right up and within a few months you'll be able to leave here. All right? You won't be hurt, and this isn't forever. Breathe, Arthur. Breathe. In, out, in, out…"

Arthur looked blankly over at the other for a few moments, but found himself breathing in tempo with Alfred's commands; he wasn't sure if this was due to the wrist bands or not, but it did help him calm down a little bit.

Once he was breathing more normally, Alfred smiled at him, ruffled his hair, and went over to the medicine cabinets, coming out with a bottle. When he squeezed the contents out onto his palms, it turned into foam. Alfred looked at his body with an evaluating eye and suddenly started rubbing the foam over Arthur's cock and balls, down his inner thigh, and liberally into his cleft.

It was painful to have his ass manipulated like that, but moreover, it was weird and embarrassing to have a stranger manhandling him between his legs so cavalierly. Arthur bit his lip and looked away. Once he was thoroughly coated there, Alfred spread the substance down Arthur's legs before walking up and rubbing the foam into his armpits, and then started to coat the lower half of his face…

Arthur's eyes widened in realization and his head jerked in surprise, causing Alfred to pause in his task. "You're not…!"

"I'm not?" Alfred said, patience in his tone.

Arthur made a strangled noise; he didn't want to say it, but there was only one thing that this could be, right? "…going to shave me?"

That made Alfred laugh again, shooting Arthur another grin. "No, not technically. The foam does it. It's a much more permanent way of removal: don't worry, this only has to happen once. It removes hair from wherever it touches and inhibits growth for at least six months, on most people."

A very, very distant part of Arthur wondered why this product was not on the market, but that was not his main concern at the moment. "Why do I need to not have hair for six months?" he asked.

Alfred smiled. "Don't worry yourself about it," he said, and finished his application before standing. "Now. This takes about 10 minutes to work properly, and I'm going to step outside for a moment. You be a good boy and stay here." Not that Arthur had any choice in the matter.  "I'll be back when it's done."

Arthur took a breath to say something, but the other was gone. Held in that vulnerable, spread position, Arthur took another shaky breath to wait it out.

It soon became a bit obvious why this product wasn't on the market. What started as a bit of a tingle soon strengthened into a horrible burn-itch-tickle that made his entire body start to _shiver_ , as the foam was on his most sensitive places.

"Ahh, _ahhh_ ," Arthur found himself moaning to the air after a few moments, the feeling strange and weird and making him writhe as much as he could on the crinkled sheets.

Even worse, despite everything, the strange feeling caused his coated dick and balls to stir and produce an erection; Arthur hadn't had a more inappropriately-timed one since puberty, and even then.

"Ahh, ahh, _no_ , ahh…" Arthur panted as his cockhead swelled and the feeling intensified, causing his face to flush as his armpits felt like they were being tickled with a thousand feathers.

When Alfred opened the door again, he was greeted by Arthur's rock-hard cock standing proud between his spread legs, and Arthur was a mess on the table.

Even Alfred's laugh did nothing to flag Arthur's erection, though he may have been even more humiliated. "That's not an uncommon side-effect," Alfred said, stepping over to the sink and pulling out a square plastic container, stepping between Arthur's bent legs. "If you're a good boy for me, I might help you with it in a bit."

Arthur had no idea what to say, but _gasped_ as a cold wipe started to move between his legs, very thoroughly cleaning all of the foam and dissolved hair away. He felt strangely chilled at his groin, and _shivered_ when Alfred's fingers brushed against skin where hair had been before. He was completely bald down there, now.

"Feels strange, doesn't it?" Alfred said, moving up to wipe the foam away from Arthur's legs, armpits and face. "Sensitive, and, well, you look a lot younger without all of it. Baby-smooth and all of that."

Something about the way Alfred said that made Arthur's cheeks color; his hardness stayed intact. The good news was that at least he wasn't pissing himself at the moment.

Alfred hummed and went over to the cabinet again, coming out with another bottle; it appeared to be some kind of oil. Pouring a generous amount into his hands, Alfred rubbed his palms together and started massaging the oil into Arthur's thighs, cock, balls, and cleft with warm, strong hands. Then the hands moved and the oil was applied to Arthur's punished ass with gentleness, and rubbed up around Arthur's hips and groin.

By the time Alfred stopped, Arthur was leaking and groaning and trying to thrust his hips up into the sensation. When Alfred moved up to rub the oil into Arthur's armpits and face, Arthur's eyes slotted open to see Alfred's smile. The man was attractive, Arthur thought in a distant way, and maybe Arthur would have been attracted to him in a different universe where he didn't work for an oppressive government and wasn't his twisted tour guide into base humiliation and punishment.

"Does that feel good?" Alfred said, still smiling. "I'm glad. I like this much better than spanking you until you cry and dance."

Arthur didn't want to think about it, so he looked away.

Once Alfred was done with the oil, he went back into the cupboards and pulled out a white plastic box and--

Deep down, Arthur had been expecting this in a terrifying way, but hadn't let himself think on it because it was revolting and demeaning and--

It was a diaper. An adult-sized one. Arthur made a horrified sound and started to move back in the stirrups as well as he could, which wasn't very well.

Alfred raised an eyebrow. "You think you don't need one?" he asked idly, twisting the top on the plastic container he held; it was clearly baby powder. "Trust me, you do. The evidence is all over the floor."

Arthur's hard cock twitched at the light, teasing sensation of the powder falling all over it; Arthur started to squirm in a vain attempt to get away. "No, this is-- I don't want--"

Suddenly, Arthur's legs were released from the stirrups; Alfred grabbed them and stuck his ankles together; the bands stayed together with something like magnetic cling and the rope hanging from the ceiling's purpose was made clear. It came down and lassoed around Arthur's legs, pulling him up in an appropriate position to be diapered.

Arthur could hear Alfred walking over to the cabinets again and opening a drawer. "You are lucky that you were assigned to me and not one of the others," Alfred informed Arthur's helplessly wiggling body. "Your bottom would be bruised by now. I have had enough of your naughtiness."

With that, there was a _crack_ against Arthur's ass; more flexible than what Francis had used, a rubber paddle. Arthur cried out in agony.

It didn't take very long for Arthur to be reduced back to squirming and begging; he had definitely lost his erection. "Please, please, I'm sorry!"

"I've noticed you aren't very sorry until you're getting your bottom blistered," Alfred remarked, pausing to rub his hand against the hot skin of Arthur's thighs and ass. "Repeat after me: I'm a naughty boy."

"I'm a naughty boy," Arthur parroted, squirming in pain at Alfred's rubbing.

"I need to be spanked," Alfred went on, relentless.

"I need to be spanked," Arthur said, hanging helplessly. Alfred's hand moved off his ass; Arthur could hear him opening and positioning the diaper below him.

"I need to wear a diaper because I wet myself," Alfred's voice continued.

Arthur took a pair of ragged breaths. "I need to wear a d-diaper because I wet myself."

"Though I guess you'd call it a nappy," Alfred remarked idly, as if _that_ mattered at all. The coolness of baby powder snowed down on Arthur's stoplight-red ass, and then the rope on the ceiling lowered. Arthur could feel the plastic ridges and padding of the diaper below him, and Alfred hummed in his throat as he repositioned it to best effect.

Once he was set on the diaper, Alfred released Arthur's legs from the rope and put them back into the stirrups to spread him; Alfred smiled at Arthur's tear-stained face between Arthur's legs. "It'll all be okay. You'll see."

Arthur did not possibly understand how this could all be okay, but said nothing as Alfred lovingly pulled the diaper up, arranged Arthur's privates in the correct position, and positioned the end against Arthur's stomach, reaching to undo the tape straps at the side and pull them up to fasten the contraption.

The diaper was very thick between Arthur's legs; he didn't think he'd be able to close them all the way.  "Suffice to say, one of the quickest ways to get in trouble around here is to try and remove your diaper," Alfred warned. "You are not to touch it. If you start to leak or need a change, you must come and fetch one of us and we will do it for you if we can at the moment. We usually notice when you need a fresh one, though; the diapers change colors as they get wet. If we catch you so much as poking at it, it's to the punishment room for you… if you think what you've gotten so far has been bad, the punishment room is far worse."

Arthur nodded dumbly, not sure what to say. As if to spite himself more urine leaked out, this time gamely absorbed by the diaper.

Alfred hummed and went back over to the cabinet, opening one of the cupboards. "Green, I think," he murmured to himself, walking over with a handful of mint fabric.

The first thing was a plastic cover for the diaper; the monstrosity was translucent green with elastic at the waist and legs, decorated with cutsey ruffles. Arthur stared in horror as Alfred slid it over first one of his legs, and then the other, pulling it up until the elastic rested just below the leg holes of the diaper and just above the waist.

"Sometimes we might be busy with the others and not able to change you right away," Alfred explained. "This helps prevent a mess."

This was just getting worse and worse. Arthur squirmed, feeling trapped in layers of plastic and absorbent material, his cock and balls positively pinned between his body and the pillowy surface of the diaper.

Alfred hummed tunelessly to himself and Arthur's attention was distracted by something sliding onto his foot; a green bootie with lace around the top of it and a thin rubber sole on the bottom. The same thing was applied on his other bare foot. Thus clad, Alfred moved up and put tight green mittens on Arthur's helpless hands; they attached just above the metal bands there and pressed his fingers together so it was difficult to move them.

"Same thing goes for the rest of your outfit," Alfred said with a smile, reaching down to tickle Arthur's nose. "Try to remove any of it, and you will regret it, I promise."

Arthur still said nothing as a long, flowing, tunic-like green thing was slid over his arms and head; it was sort of like a dress, but stopped just above the diaper. The material was very soft.

"All right, almost done," Alfred said, and Arthur couldn't imagine what the hell else would be foisted upon him; when Alfred turned away from the dresser, he had a pacifier attached to a green strap with a clip on the end of it.

Arthur's mouth opened in horror, but nothing came out other than a gasp.

Alfred came up and attached the clip to Arthur's gown. "You will have this in your mouth most of the day," Alfred informed Arthur. "You may remove it only when one of us tell you that you can. There are sensors in it, which will alert us if you don't have it in your mouth, and, again, your bottom will pay for it. You will also need to suck on it most of the time… you will get in trouble if you don't." He smiled. "Most of our children find them comforting after a while, however."

Arthur couldn't-- Alfred had already slipped the nipple of the pacifier into Arthur's mouth.

"Suck," Alfred commanded simply. Well-aware of what would happen if he didn't, Arthur's mouth closed around the nipple and he sucked. It tasted like plastic.

Plastic and shame.

Alfred smiled. "This is a reraising center," Alfred informed him. "Since you didn't learn to love your government as a child, we'll teach you how to do it here. We have found it's most effective to put miscreants in the position of the naughty little boys and girls that they are… usually it only takes a few months."

Probably because they were utterly broken by all of this, Arthur thought, feeling himself pee helplessly at Alfred's words. He flushed. The diaper was beginning to feel a bit moist at this point. He flushed deeper, and managed another suck on the pacifier in response.

Alfred smiled. "Good boy," he said, and Arthur felt himself release from the binds, allowing him to move his mittened hands and bootie-clad feet. The diaper's crinkly material rustled as he moved.

Alfred ruffled a hand through Arthur's hair. "Since you're being so good, now, we'll consider the spankings you've already received to be your first of the day, even though they were _technically_ punishments. You will still get one before bedtime. It's lucky for you that you didn't do anything violent against the government… some of those naughty children get spanked three or four times a day, not counting extra punishments!"

Arthur responded by looking at the floor.

"Come on," Alfred said, beckoning him. "I'll give you a tour of where you'll be living. This is just for arrivals."

Slowly, painfully, Arthur managed to get up on his feet. The plastic of the diaper and its covering rubbed against his burning ass, and his walk was now more of a waddle thanks to the thickness of the diaper. More pee.

"I'll also change you and feed you after the tour," Alfred informed him. "You'll probably be producing and needing a lot of fluids for a while yet, thanks to the bands."

 _Of course_ , Arthur thought, waddling outside after his captor, damp and humiliated.


End file.
